His Substitute Bride

Chapter1

SOFIA'S POV

"Where's that girl?!"

Martina’s sharp voice broke the silence like a whip cracking through the air. It was cold and filled with irritation, as if the very sight of me made her angry.

I was in my room. She knew quite well that was the only place in the house I was permitted to be.

I sat still for a moment, my fingers curling into fists in my lap. My body tensed, but I forced myself to take a slow, deep breath. I had learned over the years that reacting to her cruelty would only make things worse.

I hated her for everything she took away from me.

Martina was my stepmother, and she had spent years treating me like nothing, like I was less than dirt beneath her shoes. And now, on the day she was sending me away like some unwanted object, she was still finding ways to make me feel small.

I lifted my head slightly when she barged into my room and spoke in a calm, low tone. "I thought one of the maids would be helping me get ready."

Martina let out a sharp, mocking laugh, her eyes gleaming with pure hatred. "Fool! Who do you think you are to ask for a maid to get you dressed? Do you think you're some kind of princess?" She stepped closer, her lips curling in disgust. "I have never seen you as part of this family. The maids are worth more to me than you ever will be. At least they serve a purpose."

Before I could blink, she raised her hand and slapped me across the face.

The impact was sharp and sudden, ringing in my ears as my head snapped to the side. A burning pain spread across my cheek, but I didn't cry out. I just sat there, frozen, pressing my lips together to keep from reacting.

Martina clicked her tongue, feigning disappointment. "Look at you. Sitting there like a pathetic little rat. Do you think keeping quiet will make you seem stronger? That I’ll have pity on you?" She bent down, her fingers gripping my chin with painful force, yanking my face toward hers. "You are nothing, Sofia. Nothing but an unwanted burden my husband was too weak to throw out."

Her nails dug into my skin as she hissed, "You think so highly of yourself, don’t you? Just because you were born into this house, you think you're entitled to special treatment like my daughter? You disgust me."

She finally let go of my face with a sharp shove, making me stumble slightly.

"After we succeed in getting you married, you'll be gone from our lives forever," she continued coldly. "And I will finally be rid of the sight of you. If I ever hear that you dared to embarrass this family or try to come back here, I will personally make sure you regret it."

She turned toward the door but paused, glancing over her shoulder with a cruel smirk. "Now, wipe that pathetic look off your face and get dressed. You don’t want your future husband seeing you like the worthless thing you truly are."

I clenched my fists tighter, my nails digging into my palms. I wanted to say something—anything—but there was nothing I could say that would change the truth.

Because she was right.

I wasn’t part of this family. Even my father didn't care if I existed or not. All he cared about was Martina and her spoilt brat of a daughter, Alessia.

I wasn't needed, not at all.

My mother had once been Antonio DeLuca’s beloved wife—the woman he was supposed to cherish forever. But that love meant nothing in the end. The moment he brought Martina into our home, everything changed.

Martina had been the other woman. His mistress. And when she became pregnant with his child, he cast my mother aside like a piece of old furniture.

He ignored her, neglected her, and watched as she slowly wasted away in heartbreak. She couldn't take the hurt, the betrayal and the pain until she broke and death snatched her away from my hands.

By the time I was twelve, my mother had died. I had been too young to fully understand what had happened—too young to understand why my father barely looked at me after that. But nothing changed, he had disliked me from that age until now. Now I was twenty-two, and the hate in him towards me only grew.

And Martina?

She took over everything.

At first, she acted like she tolerated me. She forced herself to smile in front of guests, but behind closed doors, she made sure I knew exactly how unwanted I was.

She stripped away my title as Antonio’s daughter and gave everything I had, everything I owned to her daughter, Alessia.

She took everything from me, treating me not as family, but as a servant—a slave.

And my father?

He let it happen. He enjoyed it, all because I was the daughter of the woman he disliked. He let me suffer.

I lost count of how many nights I had prayed, hoping he would finally stand up for me. Hoping he would tell Martina to stop, to remind her that I was still his daughter.

But he never did.

Because deep down, I knew the truth.

He didn’t want me.

The only child he cared about was Alessia.

Alessia—Martina’s perfect daughter. Alessia was the proof of his betrayal, the daughter he actually loved.

Martina wrinkled her nose at me, her lips curling in disgust. "What are you still waiting for?"

I swallowed my anger.

She barely glanced at me before grabbing my ear as if I was a little child, yanking me forward. I stumbled as she pulled me out of my small, empty room, but I didn’t fight back. I knew better than to resist.

As we walked down towards her room, my mind wandered back to the conversation I had overheard last night.

I hadn't planned to eavesdrop.

I had been outside my father’s room, cleaning the floors like I always did—a job meant for the maids. I was just about to leave when I heard his voice from within his room.

I hesitated, my hands still gripping the wet cloth I had been using. My father rarely spoke to me, and when he did, it was always cold orders. But his voice that night sounded… strange. He was afraid, the great Antonio DeLuca was afraid of something for the very first time.

Martina was with him. And they were talking about a debt…

— – – —

"He’s demanding payment, Antonio," Martina had said in a hushed but sharp voice. "You know we don’t have that kind of money right now!"

I frowned, straining to hear more.

There was a heavy sigh, as if things were falling apart completely, but I had no idea what.

Then all of a sudden, my father's voice rose again as he spoke to Martina, "I know. I know we don't have that kind of money, Martina, and that is why I'm restless."

A chair scraped against the floor, and Martina’s voice turned desperate. "So what do we do? We can’t stall him forever!"

A silence stretched between them before my father finally spoke again.

"He wants Alessia."

My breath caught in my throat and I covered my mouth.

Alessia?

I inched closer, my heart pounding.

"What?!" Martina’s voice rose in shock. "He—he wants our daughter?!"

"Yes." My father sounded exhausted, like the weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders. "He said if we give him Alessia, he’ll clear the debt."

My stomach twisted painfully. Who could be this person who had humbled my father, Antonio DeLuca to such extent of considering to give out his own daughter in marriage against his own will?

Someone wanted Alessia as payment for a debt?

But why?

Martina’s response was immediate. "No! We can’t! She’s our only child, Antonio!"

A sharp pain stabbed through my chest at her words.

Their only child.

As if I didn’t exist.

As if I had never existed.

But before I could process that pain, my father’s next words made my blood run cold.

"We won’t give him Alessia."

There was a long pause. Then Martina whispered, "Then… who?"

Another silence.

And then my father said something that made my whole world shatter.

"We’ll give him Sofia."

I had barely stopped myself from gasping out loud.

Martina hesitated. "But… he asked for Alessia."

"We’ll dress Sofia up as Alessia," my father said, his voice was cold and emotionless. "He’s never met her before. Plus he knows Alessia is our only daughter, that's what most people believe around here. He won’t know the difference. As long as she answers to Alessia’s name and does what she’s told, he won’t suspect a thing."

Martina was quiet for a long moment, as if finding pleasure in the idea my father proposed to her. Then she let out a slow sigh.

"Thank goodness! Thank you for choosing to keep our daughter, Antonio, I love you so much," she said, and my eyes widened.

– – – – –

I had barely made it back to my room without falling apart.

I shouldn’t have been surprised.

But the pain still cut through me deeply. I had no idea about their plans and they didn't even bother to tell me first. No! Instead they made a decision within themselves to sell meoff.

My own father had decided to sell me off—just like that.

And worse… he wanted me to pretend to be Alessia.

I had no idea who this man was or why they refused to give Alessia to him. She was old enough to be married, so why wouldn’t they just give her to him to repay their debt?

Why me?

But I had no time to think.

Because today, I would be taken away under Alessia’s name.

Forced to live a life that wasn’t mine.

And there was nothing I could do to stop it.